I think that you can hear winter
The leaves whisper as they fall if you listen closely
The trees call out, not to say anything, just to be heard
And the birds voice their discontent with their absence





There's something about the ability to see my own breath
that I find to be a jarring reminder of my humanity

It was the first time I had fallen in love on a Tuesday
The crimson skies played tongue hockey
with cumulus clouds that begged so heavily
to be carried into the night

It was a feeling that produced so much awe
that it was necessary
for it to dissipate
within the blink of an eye

I never got your name
that doesn't matter
Bees know not the name of nectar
just that they need it to live

It was raining when you left me
each drop fighting to hit the ground first
in some cosmic sign
that maybe the destination meant more than the journey

Sometimes I feel
the only one that wants me to stop and smell a rose
is my nose
everyone else is content to let me pass by

I'd never stopped to speak to the old lady
at the end of the street
but I did today
and I'm glad I did

Because her eyes showed me
that below her face-scarf a smile hid
It's not always superman that saves someone's world
but who would watch that movie?

My mind is stuck on an endless loop
of play then stop then rewind
I tend to linger on one moment
although I'm not sure why... perhaps it's because


           It was the first time I had fallen in love on a Tuesday

She was the type of girl that read books no one had assigned to her
She refused to take the sidewalk if the quickest path went through the grass
Her eyes were the color of mud saturated with rain from the night before
I loved her and that was the biggest mistake I'd ever make

This isn't a poem about how girls are evil
or how the world is rigged
it's just that when I saw you I believed in love at first sight
and maybe that was wrong of me

Like a raindrop down a window
or a rope down a well
I didn't mean to fall
But once I started I couldn't help it

You remind me of my eyelids
because when I close my eyes
all I see is
You

Everything happens for a reason
Said one man to another
that’s ******* you know he responded
and even if that was so
should it be some consolation
should I be amazed by the worlds complexity?
should I applaud the interwoven madness
if the one left out is me?


Does a bull admire a matador’s technique?
Does a building admire the strength of a wrecking ball?
Tell me why the system is great
why I should care about the meaning behind it all
what you have is what you love
and I could never love a theory
I believe in the material
because it’s the only thing my eyes can see


Tell me why my wife died
Was it to save a thousand lives?
because I would **** a thousand more
for one more look into her eyes
Maybe her death
somehow saved my life
well one day I will die
without the comfort of my wife


That’s all it really is my friend
a celebrated rain delay
God’s in his high chair
choosing who will go and who will stay
but eventually we will all leave
despite all the magic this universe has to offer
you believe in faith sir
but sadly I am bogged down in fact


The man was choked up
as he searched for words to answer the other
I did not know your babies mother
but my son did
She pushed him to safety from a car
taking the impact that was meant for him
so while I'm sorry for your loss friend
there is a reason behind everything

I wonder what I'll see right before I die
Not the moments flashing bright
nor the memories passing by

I mean the last thing
the image that I'll see
the feelings it'll bring

Will it be a neat summary of things I've seen
or perhaps a dying shout
at what things could have been

Or maybe it will be nothing at all
just a slab of concrete
after one long fall

What do you want?

I want to be king

Do you don't

I d--

My father is a king
A good one
He is loved
Much more than past Kings
He solidified the realm
Kept the peace for many years
And he kills children and nobleman and peasants alike
He killed your mother
And made your father watch before he killed him too
And He is a good king
If you rebel
Even if you win
And **** my father
At best all you will ever be


Is A Good King

I find my calm not at the finish line, looking back at the distance I've traveled, but in the moment, on the run, out of breath, looking forward. I don't know where I'm going, and I guess I hope to God I never get there—I'm happy as I am: Chasing something eternal and ethereal. The world is not—will never be—enough for me and that's just the way I like it.

There are so many things in this world
I mean that in the literal sense
there are bananas, apples and figs
heroine, needles and cigs
the thing...
the thing I am struggling with
is
what matters

What should I care about?
really tell me
is there some sort of roadmap
to lead me to my goal

help me
really
there's *** and there's piety
there's the bottle and there's deities
there's a mountain built above me
full of expectations,
plans and potential
and I have no means with which to climb it

I don't get it
how do other people pick
how do terrorists actually commit to terrorism?
I'm serious
obviously their actions are appalling
but how are they so sure
how do womanizers become womanizers
im serious
is there some threshold I've yet to cross
some achievement I've yet to receive

I feel like everyone around me knows who they are
When I can't figure out what I like

At this point

we haven't talked in a while
and maybe that's for the best
I don't love you anymore
perhaps that's for the best too
I hate to romanticize the past
a beneficiary of history like socrates
I'll never be

even so

At this point

we are two completely different people
indistinguishable
not only from each other
but from past versions of ourselves
we are stationary bayonets
placed dutifully and lazily
on top of the guns
we used to be
Always the second choice

At this point

We are strangers to each other
not that we would not recognize each other
but in the sense
that if I waved to you
or you to me
the other would not know what to do

At this point

I don't feel like checking in
because I know the past was better
and I assume the future will be too
its the middle of the story
the part you don't really need
but where you're still unsure
where it might lead
so how am i?

cautiously optimistic

At this point

Home for the Holidays
Isn't it sweet
Home for the Holidays
Nightmare memories played on repeat

Home for the Holidays
The fighting never ended
Hate out in the open
It was better when we pretended

Home for the Holidays
Still nothing's changed
Home for the Holidays
You all continue to act deranged

Home for the Holidays
I'm still the one in the middle
Home for the Holidays
The never solved riddle

The father knew it as soon
as his son walked in
it was his first broken heart
and it had been torn thin

so the father followed after
stomping feet and slamming doors
this was the big one the one
that shakes young men to their cores

The father entered
and dropped to his knees
it's time I tell you son
about the birds and the bees

Heart break like this is normal
but a love like yours was pure
even though you will have many
of this one's meaning I know you're sure

love, real love, is everything
it is a cataclysmic spastic
smattering of everything you held true
suffocating as if you were asthmatic

It's not that love is hard
it shouldn't be
in fact that's how I knew
your mother was the one for me

but somethings aren't meant to be
so when it came time for the power's that be
that took her away from me
the falsehood of love was clear to me

love as if you'll die tomorrow
because you might as well should
because a life without love is silly
stupid, and no good

The Past
is just that
Past
Move on

Maybe I don't have a One

This isn't meant to be depressing
although I agree it may come off that way
I just want to be realistic

Maybe I don't have a One

People die for no reason all the time
I don't mean to be somber
these are just facts
do think they had all fallen in love?
do you think their lives were fulfilled?

Maybe I don't have a One

We're force-fed fairytales
peddled parables of Princes and Princesses
love is just a product
no different than chocolate
or straight to DVD CDs of Dumb and Dumber
Not everybody has a bicycle

Maybe I don't have a One

Don't get me wrong
I'm as hopeless a romantic as the next guy
I'm sure people do find love
and a couple consists of two people
so they very well may make up the majority
but as obvious as it may sound to say
50 is not 100
some is not all
and everybody might not have a somebody

Maybe I don't have a One

This wasn't meant to be sad
I just feel like we're all fed a certain narrative
that may or may not be true
which is fine
I just don't think it's crazy
to admit that
perhaps
possibly

Maybe I don't have a One

All words once used
to describe the eyes the color blue
tied together, tried and true
are still nowhere near good enough for you

Hello


World

are you listening?

Anyone? Really?

I have some things I'd like to say.

Seriously with this Donald Trump guy?
I mean in a vacuum I understand it
like if you don't factor in that his rhetoric
is is right out of Adolf ******'s guidebook
or our very own Joseph McCarthy
but we don't live in a vacuum
open your eyes
even if the dust is clouding them

and another thing

Mass Shootings
what the **** guys?!?
can we not do that
I get it
we all die
life is a flat circle
we'll pray for you blah blah blah
I mean *******
you don't have to love everybody
or even like them
but come on let's not do that

ok you're listening now
good

and gay people
why can't they ****?
I mean seriously
what's wrong with a little *** play
are you that self righteous

ok

alright

****
******* ****
cmon guys it's not that hard to get consent
watch a few **** pickup youtube videos
and you'll be just fine
you don't have to be a god awful person

Religion
what's up with that whole thing?
I understand that it's brought good things
and that's awesome
but do you guys really have to fight over it
I mean either your religion is the "right" one
or it isn't
and there's a ton of religions
so odds are you're wrong
so why boast about it?

water food and shelter
can we try to give that to all living people
even if their skin is different from ours
is it really that hard guys
I mean Geez

They told me life would be hard
it isn't




or at least it shouldn't be
if people would just listen

All of my let's just be friends
are friends I don't have anymore
my mind races
as I search for reasons why
I'm unironically looking
to Drake for inspiration

We can not see the proton
We can not touch gravity
We can not hear silence
We can not taste air


We can not feel love

Memories are as real
as you allow them to be

lemonade stained table tops
caramel crusted counters
slightly chipped glasses
and twice used napkins
                                          neatly placed
                                          and set for two
                                          even though you're gone
                                          I can't eat without you

Little May
dress made of silk
eyes the color grey
hair with silver tips
nails with fierce grips
cries everyday
as if there was spilled milk
please stop for today

we let you down
Little May
it's ok to frown
but please do not cry
please do not be shy
you deserve a golden crown
not memories of that day
when your skin was bruised to brown

Forgive us, what do you say?
it was never our intention
Little May
he never meant to hurt you
his mistakes were true
we foolishly believed what he had to say
we prayed for intervention
but he walks free to this day

We'll burn for what we did to you
that much is set in stone
all we hope is you won't burn too
Little May
Keep those awful thoughts away
we know the good days will be few
and we can never atone
For not seeing your ******'s justice through

I miss talking to you
Actually talking
Not just saying "hi" and "sup"
until one of us gets tired of it and stops answering
I miss laying with you
and pretending like there were stars on the ceilings
and pretending that the only two people mattered
were me and you

I miss kissing in the elevator
and in the hallway
and in the stairway
and anywhere really
I miss your nose
how perfect it was
i've never seen anything like it
Im sure I never will

I miss watching you paint
I miss watching you love doing something
it was so cool
I've never seen someone take art so seriously
I miss making you happy
I miss seeing that smile of yours
I miss when you would tell me you loved me
and I wouldn't say it back

I miss when you'd put your head on my chest
and I'd look in your eyes
and I'd just throw my head back
and close my eyes
because at that very moment
what else could I want?
I miss sitting together
and being together

You kissed me
but it felt like you were kissing me goodbye
I mean we had broken up
what did I expect
but
I don't know
I miss talking to you
check that
I miss everything about you

Why do i still care is probably too simple a question
it implies an easy answer like “her eyes” or “her smile”
but it isn’t that
it’s not love at least not yet i’m too young
so it isn’’t that
think think think
there’s been other girls
four in fact
but what did they not have?
what were they missing
what made them Roseline and not Juliet
does “it” exist? it’s possible i guess
maybe nothing tangible could account for what i’m feeling
i doubt it but it’s a possibility
So what is it?
Seriously(tension builds)
Maybe it’s because you still care
sure I only know because of the grapevine
but i’ll just assume it still counts


I refuse to believe im the Pip to your Estella
I’d like to believe I have too much pride for that
Pride pride pride
maybe that’s the answer
I messed you up pretty good the first time
but then again you did win round 2
so maybe it’s just a game
a game my mind is just set on finishing


Maybe you’re just evil
crazy i know
really crazy
lunatic crazy
but still is it that crazy a thought?
you say you love me when you don’t
you say you don’t love me when you do
you say you miss us
but somehow “I” am not included


Maybe I have simply ruined you for myself
I’ve built you up in my head
to be something you simply can not live up to
It’s hard to explain but to me at least in my mind
you are a different type of “perfect”
Flawed in all the right ways
proficient where it really matters
In my head you don’t make mistakes
In my head you choose me first so you don’t regret it later
In my head you act rationally
In my head I create fake things


So to answer my question I must decide on an answer
and i choose all of them
because that’s life
that’s what it is
you’ll meet a girl who you feel is perfect for you in every way
except for the fact that she isn’t
and it won’t make sense
and it will drive you crazy
and you’ll write some stupid poem at a late hour trying to find an answer to your question
until you realize it doesn’t matter
because you’re young and she’s young
because there are mistakes to be made
nights to be forgotten
people to meet
places to see
and all the while there is time to sit down
to really ponder and finally come to the conclusion
that You
yes You
are not the one I end up with

Hello,
I know I shouldn't have to introduce myself
for obvious reasons
but it's apparent to me
that we can so readily change who we are
in that matter of a few years
we are a completely distinct
being from what we once are

but enough about me
I'm living me and you lived it
we know about me
what are you like now?
can you even answer that
can you look at yourself in the mirror
how much do you lie
how much do you hate yourself

these aren't fair questions
i know
completely inappropriate for a job interview
i get it
you've changed
i feel the fetus that is you
nestled inside of me
waiting to come out

you are not innocent
none of us are
but you especially
you claim to be something you're not
you gleefully toe the line between good and bad
blissfully confident of your place
there is no line we both know that
but you toe it anyway

why am i so accusatory?
me?
YOU JUDGE ME
you of all people
the person I have become
YOU JUDGE ME
no
I won't have it

Monsters.
They tell us why they are interesting
"because they weren't always monsters"
*******
a caterpillar is still a butterfly
they are one in the same
just because something changed
doesn't mean you changed

I get it
you blame me for you
i get it
well what do you want
what could I do
to make you happy
to make you better
to make you.... loveable

do the right thing
most of the time
when you can
do the right thing
help people
as a matter of self respect
educate yourself
when others fail too

be fair
be strong yes
but don't forget to be fair
money doesn't matter
having enough matters sure
but you don't need a yacht
be the smartest man in the room
even when you know you're not

treat the homeless with respect
they are the ones that need it the most
respect common sense before religion
respect contentness before exhilaration
don't eat when a waiter is at the table
don't let your good idea lose to a popular one
never let someone intimidate you
unless they have a gun

love
love unconditionally
let your heart be broken
so that one day someone can help put it out together
don't settle
unless you know you should
never become a cynic
please never do that

be better than me future self
please
I will do my best to make it so
I hope one day you will read this
with a smile
knowing that you became
the person that I
doubted you could

Love is not unbreakable
It is not undeniable
Nor is it everlasting
Love can not conquer worlds
Love isn't hard to define
because that implies that it can be
Love exists (if at all) in fleeting moments
so quick that if you blink you'll miss it

We can not see the proton
We can not touch gravity
We can not hear silence
We can not taste air


We can not feel love

You said there would be a next time
and in that moment I wondered if there wouldn't be
and there wasn't
is that my doing
or was it all inevitable
did there have to be a next time
that wouldn't occur
it was never going to end easily
so what if it just never ended
what if by next time
you didn't mean next week
or next year
but sometime down the road
if there's always a next time
then nothings truly over right?
It's amazing the lack of finality in it all
I just can't let it end
I'm obsessed with writing story book endings
with characters I know all to well
Happily ever after isn't an ending
it's a cop out
nothing ever ends well
that doesn't make sense
if something was so great why should it end
which leaves two possibilites
A it was never that great to begin with
or
B it hasn't truly ended yet
My heart wishes it was B
but my mind knows it's A
which *****
it does
do you think the eiffel tower was the first thing the french came up with
there must have been other suggestions right?
other options
that didn't allude to that great big beautiful tower
i'm getting drawn into the abstract
but the point stands
the eiffel tower is an iconic message
but at a time it was nothing
just an idea behind an idea
maybe nothing is what we want it to be
maybe we build our own diorama's and view life how we see fit
it would make sense
you see what you want
but if you turn around you'll see the world for what it is
not the candy coated box where you dwell
but an open room where objects lay where they lay
for no other reason than that they lay
I'll never be perfect
I know that
but I think I'll always try to perfect my world
make it better... for me of course but the nobility is just in it's own right
you're too random
you don't fit the script
so maybe you should have never read lines
in the first place

I'm struggling to write the first few lines of this poem
1. because I haven't written in awhile
and 2. Because I think it will be a very good poem
and don't want  youto abandon it
trust me
we give up too easily
for example
when I'm older I want to write movies
but when I watch a movie I constantly check my phone
even if I like the movie
we are worse off than we know
I've been thinking
lately
that is a lie
it's only been recently
very recently
regardless
why I do write best when I am depressed?
why is that when I am most profound
why must my life be strewn about around me
for me to have a grasp on literary prose
then again is it wrong of me
to consider my only important writing
the ones that can be deemed "good"
is that unfair to myself
there's a select few I always come back to
they are very good
but I was hurting a lot when I wrote them
were they worth it
maybe
I remember something I read one time
it was written by a woman
and she was talking about her pain
and her writing
she said that pain was now fluid in her life
all that really mattered was her writing
no matter how much the pain hurt
as long as her writing benefited
she would welcome it with open arms
what a **** way to live
maybe it's just nostalgia
that's *******
you wrote better before
you know that
I'm right
I've become a better person
and a worse writer
and both
frighten me

A team of black doctors
working to save the life
of a KKK member

That's a feeling

A man shot dead
attempting to stop
the **** of a woman he didn't know

That's a feeling

A man not getting a job
because "He Was Mexican"
even though he grew up in Maine

That's a feeling

A Muslim teacher
stabbed by a student
who didn't want to be taught by a "terrorist"

That's a feeling